Hop To It - Advance 8

[Empire City]

One Month after the ARK Incident

Ringo stood in front of a mirror, a coat hanger in each hand. “White… or black? White… or black…”

His tour was due to start soon, and his manager left him in charge of his wardrobe. Ringo wasn’t anywhere near famous enough to have an ‘iconic’ look or anything, but he did have some fans. When he first started out, he wore a blue jacket with a red star on the back. Recently though, he’d picked up a white vest that contrasted better against his feathers.

Image was a big deal in his line of work. His job paid the bills right now, but his manager was making noises about merchandise for the new year, and Ringo wanted to look good; the better he looked, the more posters he’d sell.

He looked down at his boots. The vest matched them, but was that enough reason to go with it? He was bad at this. He’d much rather be planning stunts than this.

At length, he clicked his beak and sighed. Then he perked up. In the end, there was only one person whose opinion he truly cared about, so now was the time to seek her opinion.

“Penny!” he called, walking out of their bedroom. “I need your help! Penny?” She wasn’t in the den, so he went to the kitchen. There, he found her at the table, hunched over her notebook and surrounded by three empty cups of coffee. The fourth was sitting in her hand. “Yo, you good?”

The crow jerked, putting an arm over her page defensively. She relaxed when she saw it was him. “Sorry, Go. I was focused. What do you need?”

Ringo frowned, setting the garments down over the back of a chair. “Fashion advice, but forget that. Did you even sleep last night?”

Penny shook her head. “I couldn’t. My contact in G.U.N. finally made it through the screening and was able to send me the data I requested, and I just had to get through it all.” She waved towards the other end of the table, where a thick manilla folder sat ominously.

“Why the rush?” He took a seat next to her and gently pried the coffee out of her hand. “The story isn’t going anywhere.”

“That’s the problem,” she said urgently. “There’s so much we don’t know about what happened on the ARK! Commander Tower so obviously left a lot out of his speech, but the longer it takes to find the truth, the less people will care when it comes to light.”

“You think he was lying?”

“...No,” she said reluctantly. “But there’s still holes in the story. Every lie has a bit of truth, and every truth has a bit of a lie,” she quoted.

Ringo shuddered. “Pen, you know I hate when you do that. Please stop using your boss’s voice.”

“Sorry, love.” She shook herself. “We still don’t know who this Shadow guy is, and I have no idea how Heyu got involved.”

“Have you tried calling him?”

She scowled. “Yes. But I’m having dreadful luck reaching him. He’s never there when I call his home phone, and he never set his voicemail so I can’t let him know to call me back!” She took a deep breath. “I can’t believe he let someone else interview that Gamma guy and didn’t even ask if I wanted to…”

“Man, that sucks.” Ringo scratched behind his ear. “...I guess you can’t afford to take a week off to see him in Station Square, huh?”

“I don’t have enough off days,” she bemoaned. “If I’d known the world would be in danger, I’d have saved them a little longer.”

“And he doesn’t have a cell,” Ringo added. “Man.”

“Didn’t he call you from a cell phone before?”

“I think? My caller ID didn’t work, it was all garbled. And there was no number listed, either, so I couldn’t call it back.”

“Ugh.” She let her head fall to the table, narrowly missing it with her beak.

Ringo tapped his fingers against the wood, thinking. It was stupid how hard it was to get ahold of their old friend. What was the point of having a phone if you were never going to be there to answer it? What else could they do? Track down Sonic? The fox kid? If they couldn’t take the time to visit that beanstalk of a hare, there was no way they could find those two.

Penny sat back up, yawning. “Alright, I’m good. Enough of my complaining. What did you need?”

Ringo blinked. “You sure? Well, okay, I just wanted your opinion on what I should wear for the tour--”

“The white one,” she said promptly, before he could even hold it up. “That jacket of yours made it harder to glide, plus it’s old and raggedy. The white vest is both a new look for you, but also a callback to classic daredevils. People are still scared of how fast the world is changing, seeing something familiar in a new way will both assuage their fears and encourage looking to the future.”

Ringo stared at her, then at the garment. “...Penny, it’s just a vest. It’s not that deep.”

She smirked. “Maybe, maybe not. Go with the white anyway. It looks good on you.”

“Now that I can agree with.” He slipped the vest on and struck a pose. “How’s about it?”

Penny made a frame with her fingers. “There he is, the Fabulous Flying Macaw!” She giggled. “Oh goodness, I’m tired.”

Ringo grinned. “Too tired to go for a ride? I wanna break this in. It might be the last chance to cruise in a while.”

She stood, smiling. “I’d love to. It’s better than continuing to slam my head against this mess,” she added, pointing accusingly at her notes.

“Now there’s a tagline to put on my promos. Ringo the Parrot: Better than Homework!”

They laughed, and headed out.

-----------------------------------

[Eggman]

Deep in the foundry of his latest secret base, Dr. Eggman plotted. He worked. And he seethed.

Ivo Robotnik was not a man trapped in the past. Far from it, he constantly moved forward, rarely repeating himself, never making the same mistake twice. With every new model of badnik he created, he improved on the previous one. More efficient batteries. More accurate guns. More intelligent soldiers. Better. Faster. Stronger.

The E-100 series of elites had experienced oscillating quality. Alpha was nigh-unstoppable, but was deeply stupid. Beta was inflexible, and had difficulty adapting. But Gamma, oho, Gamma had been brilliant. One of his best. If the Eggman Empire could have a hundred like Gamma, he’d surely have the might to beat Sonic. 

The next three in the line were disappointments. He’d attempted to improve on Gamma’s design by increasing the power and variety of their weapons, but somehow he failed to keep Gamma’s intelligence. E-102 was weaker, technically, but he was smart enough to leverage what he had more effectively. Delta wasn’t even able to understand the idea of dodging.

E-106 Eta had been more intelligent, but at the expense of firepower. Theta had technically been a success at combining power and intellect, but in order to do so the badnik had ended up the size of a small house. He’d been so hopeful for Iota…

Bah, but that pesky rodent had gotten to him first somehow. There was no way of knowing if E-108 would have been the perfect soldier Eggman dreamed of, but he was willing to accept that. Whatever Iota was now, it wasn’t one of his. It seemed that Gamma was to be the only true success of the E-100s… Oh, if only he remembered how he’d done it.

And then that music video came out. At the time, Ivo had been too focused on the audacity of the video’s existence to realize what Gamma’s presence in it had meant--but then that damnable interview aired.

Eggman was furious.

Up until that point, he was operating under the assumption that Gamma had perished in the battle against Sonic before the Egg Carrier fell. The very idea that one of his robots could betray him? Unthinkable.

Gamma’s tracking device was inactive, naturally, and after the TV spot aired he seemed to vanish off the face of the earth, but Eggman was plotting. Oh yes. Gamma, betrayal or not, was one of his best. And he wasn’t going to let him go to waste, oh no.

The other E-100 robots since Iota had been… small. Specialists who excelled in one thing. Test beds for other things. Not worth discussing. For example:

Ivo set the welding torch aside and pressed the call button on his watch. Within moments, the door to his private workshop opened and the latest model in the E-100 series stepped in.

“Sir, you rang?”

E-117 Sigma was a return to form, based closely on the likes of Gamma and Delta, but despite appearances he was possessed of much more dexterous joints. Initially conceived as a tactician of sorts, Eggman pivoted to a much more useful role halfway through development: medic.

‘Medic’ for a robot army naturally translated to mechanic, but Sigma taking the lead on maintenance of other badniks meant that Eggman was freed up to do other things. Like working on his next project, as he was now.

“Sir?” Sigma prompted again, after Ivo let the silence drag on too long. Gah.

“I was getting there! Don’t interrupt me!” He removed a small duct from his current project and inspected it, then tossed it over his shoulder and replaced it with a much sturdier one. “Ahem. Is Mecha fully repaired?”

“Nearly, sir. He uses a great many specialty parts no one else does.” Sigma paused, distracted by the robot on the table. A magnifying glass dropped in front of his right optic. “Many apologies, Doctor, but you seem to have missed those wires; they could lead to a 16% drop in reaction speed if left in their current state.”

Eggman squinted, setting his own goggles to zoom. “So they would.” He fixed it promptly. He would have noticed it eventually, of course, but sooner was better than later. “Finish Mecha’s repairs and send it in here. I have a task for it.”

“I’m sure he’ll be glad to hear it, sir. I imagine he finds it frustrating, constantly chasing after shadows.” Sigma saluted and walked out again.

The Doctor scowled to himself. “Not half as frustrating as I find it, I assure you…”

Honestly. How many ways could Mecha Sonic find to fail him? He didn’t even know how he kept getting damaged; it looked more like the moronic scrap pile had run headlong into a cliff rather than anything Shadow might have done to it.

------------------------------

[Mecha]

Mecha was running out of ways to fail at catching Shadow. He could only superficially damage himself and pretend it was combat related so many times.

He stared at the ceiling, deep in thought. If Mecha was honest with himself, he still didn’t understand why he was doing this. He went out, tracked down Shadow, and then fabricated a fight that he ‘lost’ all to end up back at base, strapped to a table, and get berated.

At least he wasn’t being berated by the Doctor. Eggman didn’t care enough about him to scold.

The doors to the service room slid open, and Mecha’s optics slid to the side without moving his head to see Sigma stepping in.

The Elite unit’s speaker hissed as he sighed. “You’re treading a fine line, you know.”

Mecha didn’t respond verbally. He hated his voice.

Sigma audibly turned his radio on. “You’re not going to give me the silent treatment, Mk. III. I can’t cover for you for much longer.”

Mecha closed his eyes. Tuning into Sigma’s frequency, he sent, {What do you want me to say, 117?}

“I’m not asking for much, I don’t think,” Sigma griped, leaning over him to reattach his motor controls. “Eventually the Doctor is going to check your video logs to find out how you keep failing.”

{He won’t see anything. I delete them afterwards.}

“That isn’t going to help!” Sigma argued. “It’s just going to make him MORE suspicious!”

{Chaos energies are poorly understood. I can claim that they corrupted the data.}

Sigma gave him an unimpressed look. “...I’m not asking for much,” he said again, unstrapping the older badnik. “I don’t want to see any of my friends, my kin, decommissioned. But if you’re going to keep disobeying the Doctor, you need to give me more than nothing at all if you want me to help you.”

{...}

Why WAS he doing this? He didn’t even like Shadow. Ah, but that was because Shadow had gotten all the Doctor’s attention. Shadow hadn’t asked for it, and Mecha was never going to get it anyway. Petty reasons that Mecha couldn’t hold onto anymore.

Maybe that was the reason. {...the Doctor does not like me. If I succeed, then Shadow will be imprisoned and I will get nothing at all. After he saved the world, Shadow doesn’t deserve that.}

Sigma’s gears stuttered. “Sentiment. How droll.”

Mecha sat up, opening his optics again and flexed his hand. Everything was in working order. There was a mirror in the room that Sigma used when he needed to repair himself, and Mecha turned to look at himself. Aside from now having a clear visor, he looked the same as he ever did. He… liked having visible eyes now. They made him feel more like himself. It was about the only part he liked looking at.

“And?” Sigma prompted. “What of your… extracurriculars?”

Mecha looked away. {I don’t know what you’re talking about.}

“I’m the one resetting your odometer every time, Mecha,” Sigma said warningly. “I know you’re going somewhere other than wherever that Shadow’s been hanging about.”

Mecha didn’t answer.

Sigma sighed again. “...Fine, keep your secrets.”

{Thank you.}

“Don’t mention it. Please, do not.” Sigma squinted, then grabbed a can of finish and sprayed a spot on Mecha’s forehead and rubbed at it with a rag.

{Stop that.}

“Hold still, I’m almost done,” Sigma admonished. “There. Good as the day you were built, all shiny and new.” He wiped his hands free of grease and tossed the rag into a can full of them. “Now that you’re done, the Doctor wants to see you. He has a new task for you.”

Mecha stiffened. Only another robot would have been able to tell the difference. {What… does he want?}

“I do not know and did not ask. But you shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

No, he supposed not. Mecha swung his legs off the table and stood up. Sigma waved him out the door, and he went on his way.

Mecha Sonic Mk. III was not as fast as many of his predecessors, but he was no slouch. He could easily reach the Doctor’s workshop in seconds. He chose to walk. Being alone with the Doctor worried him.

When Shadow fell from space, Mecha was sent to retrieve him. When he found the black hedgehog not only alive, but awake, and apparently amnesiac, Mecha made the decision to pretend he couldn’t find him. It wasn’t a lie that could stand for long, but thankfully Shadow was a powerful foe, and the Doctor had no difficulty believing Mecha would lose against him.

Doctor Robotnik did not generally tolerate failure. Mecha’s continued existence despite his consistent inability to complete his mission was a relief, but also baffling.

…The Doctor couldn’t have figured out the deception, could he? He was a genius but he also tended to overlook things, and he didn’t think highly of Mecha. Surely he hadn’t realized, right? But if he had a new task, why would he reach out to Mecha, who he viewed as useless?

Mecha stood outside the door. He counted to five.

He counted to ten.

He raised a hand to open the door.

He counted to fifteen.

…

Mecha opened the door.

Eggman didn’t notice him at first, too engrossed in the robot he was working on. Mecha was prepared to wait until he was noticed, but that would invite more scorn than interrupting him would. Probably. So he stepped fully into the room, stomping a little harder than he needed to.

At the sound of his feet, Eggman looked up and scowled at the sight of him. “Oh, Mecha. About time you showed up.” The scowl shifted into a smirk. “You’re just in time, actually, to meet someone very special.”

The Doctor stepped back from the bench and pressed a button. Mechanical arms descended from the ceiling, each holding a cerulean blue piece of armor. The chassis parts were slotted into place across the endoskeleton, and Mecha stared as the robot took form. With another press of a button, deep red optics lit up on the machine’s visor. It sat up, haltingly, while Eggman grinned.

“Ohoho! Welcome back, Metal!”

Metal Sonic’s eyes flashed as he turned to the Doctor. In a flash that even Mecha struggled to follow, the doppelganger stood, twisting around to stand proud at attention.

Then it looked at him, and Mecha took a step back.

The Doctor didn’t notice. “It’s good to have you back,” he said cheerfully. “I can’t tell you how good it will be to have a competent minion around again!”

Mecha resisted the urge to hunch in on himself. Don’t draw attention. Don’t show weakness.

Metal looked away, disregarding him, and Mecha blinked, that being the only sign of relief he’d allow himself.

“Now, Mecha,” Eggman said, finally turning to him. “Since you’ve been so incompetent at finding Shadow, I have a new task for you that even you can’t mess up.” Went unsaid was the threat of or else.

Mecha saluted.

The Doctor pulled a slip of paper out of his pocket and scribbled on it, then handed it to Mecha. It was a check for a large amount of money. Mecha looked up blankly.

“Deliver this to Cosmo the Parrot, the singer-songwriter who created that marvelous song praising me.” He wrote another small note and handed it off. “And let him know that there’s a job offer for him if he wants more.”

Mecha beeped. “And if he doesn’t accept?”

Eggman shrugged dismissively. “His loss, then. If he’s smart he’ll know having me as an ally is much better than as an enemy. Once that’s done, return here immediately.”

With that, he turned to Metal once more and ignored Mecha’s presence.

Mecha waited a moment anyway to see if more instructions were coming, then turned around to leave. Metal watched him.

…Mecha did not like Metal. But there was nothing to be done about that. For now, he could leave Shadow alone while he ran an errand, and he wouldn’t have to damage himself to maintain the illusion. Maybe he’d have time to visit Mystic Ruins again.

Part of him, dimly, was worried about leaving Shadow alone too long. The hedgehog had been surviving in the wild so far, running around the desert, and Mecha may have been making sure he had enough water. If Mecha was gone too long, it might be harder to find him again.

But then again, Shadow had stayed within the same general area since Mecha found him, after running out of that forest. What were the chances he’d pick now to go somewhere else?

-----------------------------------------

[Shadow]

The wide open desert was a fantastic place to just let loose. Nothing, nothing for miles except the occasional cactus, and all the space in the world for running and running and running.

Skating. Skating was probably a more accurate description of what he was doing. He wasn’t sure how these fancy shoes knew when to activate, but however they worked they made him fast.

It was nice. Exhilarating, even. But the sand was itchy, and the sun was harsh, and there wasn’t much to look at. Pure speed could only entertain him for so long, so Shadow finally decided it was time to move on. He picked a direction, and ran.

Eventually, sand turned to stone, and stone turned to soil and grass. Cacti became trees. It was more interesting but still so flat. There had to be something else out here, right?

Finally, he came to a road that stretched out in either direction. Shadow stopped to catch his breath by the side of the road. He knew what roads were. They led places. And any place had to be better than the fat lot of nothing he’d been dealing with for what must have been weeks. He just needed to follow the road.

He was still deciding which way to go, north or south, wishing he had a coin to flip, when he saw something--someone--approaching from the south.

He watched it as it came up. When it roared by him, Shadow enjoyed the feeling of the wind it kicked up.

About a hundred feet past him, it skidded to a stop and u-turned, coming back to him at a much more sedate pace.

A pair of birds looked at him from atop the motorcycle. It was a beautiful bike, with a low seat and tall handlebars, and an incredible rumble coming from the engine that got him hyped just listening to it. The paint job was brighter than he’d prefer, but there was something to respect about the white and blue stars. Did Shadow know how to drive a motorcycle? He knew a lot of things that he didn’t realize until he needed the knowledge, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever driven a vehicle before--

“Yo, kid!”

Shadow jumped, startled. “What?”

The red bird raised an eyebrow at him. “Dude, I’ve been trying to talk to you for like five minutes. You got heat stroke or something?”

Did he? Shadow considered that question before shaking his head. “No. I don’t… get sick. I think.”

“That’s not a very convincing answer,” the black bird pointed out, which Shadow had to admit was fair. “What are you doing out here?”

He pointed back the way he came. “I was wandering.”

“Out there?” she asked, concerned. “There’s nothing out that way for miles.”

“Trust me, I’m aware,” he said drolly.

“Dude.” The red bird shook his head. “Seriously, you alright?”

“...I think so. A little thirsty, maybe.”

“I bet.” The birds conferred with each other. “I guess it’s about time to head back now… hey kid, you’re a hedgehog, you think you can keep up with the bike?”

Shadow smirked. “That won’t be a problem.”

“Tight.” He revved the bike and the black bird held on tighter. “We’ll lead you back to the city and I’ll buy you a meal or something.”

“Why?”

“Why?” he repeated, looking confused. “Uh, because you’ve been wandering the desert and need a meal? What kind of question is that?”

Shadow blinked. “...If you say so.”

They shrugged carelessly and started driving, a little slowly at first, then faster as they saw he could keep up.

“What’s your name, anyway?” the red bird asked once they were moving, yelling over the wind.

“Shadow.”

The black bird nearly fell off the bike. “What?!”